


i like your melodrama

by dustofwarfare



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Awkward Flirting, First Kiss, M/M, game mechanics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 16:10:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20195023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dustofwarfare/pseuds/dustofwarfare
Summary: Yusuke wanting to expound on the artistic nuances of subway maps and staring for ten minutes at an ad for Big Bang Burger and wondering if it’s a subtle commentary on the intangible nature of mankind is basically just par for the course on a Tuesday.(Or, Yusuke's weird, but Akira likes it. It's not an easy thing to find beauty in a world full of stains and shadows.)





	i like your melodrama

**Author's Note:**

  * For [foxjar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxjar/gifts).

> For Foxjar, and the 300bpmflashexchange! The prompt was Yusuke/Akira, to the song "Taking Pictures" by The Ready Set. I love this game, I LOVE this ship and I adore the song for these two! I haven't written this fandom before but I was excited for the opportunity, and would love to write more about these two in the future. 
> 
> I blatantly used a line from the song in the story, btw :D 
> 
> Set sometime during canon, before Okumura's palace (though take this with a grain of salt given this references something with Yusuke's Confidant level).

Hanging out with Yusuke is always an adventure. He’s weird, but that’s a given at this point -- Akira does, after all, talk to a cat on a daily basis while working three jobs and solving supernatural crimes in people’s distorted consciousnesses. Yusuke wanting to expound on the artistic nuances of subway maps and staring for ten minutes at an ad for Big Bang Burger and wondering if it’s a subtle commentary on the intangible nature of mankind is basically just par for the course on a Tuesday. 

Besides. It’s no different than listening to Ann tell him earnestly about the pros and cons of a halter top or the correct way to pronounce _ empire _in “empire waist dress,” and it involves less running and squats than hanging out with Ryuji so that’s a plus. Futaba always beats him at video games and simultaneously crows about it while hitting him on the head with the controller and demanding he “get gud,” and Makoto stares pointedly at his textbook and asks about his grades. 

Yusuke just likes to point at construction signs and say things like, “Is it art, Akira? Does it make you _ feel _ in addition to telling you not to enter? Does the font _ say _ anything about the design, and does the background color say to you that one should _ take _caution, or throw it to the winds?” 

And when Akira just shrugs helplessly without a clue how to answer if a _ No Trespassing _ sign is art and if it makes him feel anything other than _ don’t go in there, _ Yusuke will nod like Akira’s brilliant and say, “Yes, indifference and the fear of the unknown, that’s _ exactly _it! The sign is both a warning and a promise, and we will never know unless we go beyond its limits!”

(The one time Yusuke tried to “go beyond the limits” of the sign, a policeman noticed and yelled at him. “Hey, kid, can’t you read? It says right there on the sign not to go in there!” 

Yusuke huffed and tilted his chin, looking for all the world as if he wanted to brandish his katanas and fight it out. Instead, he shouted back, “Fine, but make your sign less enticing next time! That slant to the left and the sans serif font choice just _ begs _to be disobeyed!”)

There was also the time Yusuke walked right up to a young woman in the train station and went on and on about the pattern on her canvas bag, asking if it was supposed to represent constellations and could she tell him which one?

“Um,” the girl said, staring hard at him. She pulled her bag closer to herself and took a step back “It's...those spots are because I spilled my smoothie on it, so…no?” 

There is something sort of beautiful about the way Yusuke views the world, where even fruit juice spilled on a plain canvas bag inspires him.

Beautiful, but definitely weird. 

***

“That kid,” Sojiro says, after Yusuke leaves LeBlanc’s one night. “He’s a little weird, isn’t he?” He’s drying a few dishes behind the counter, peering at Akira as if waiting for an argument. 

In his bag, Morgana chuckles. “That’s the understatement of the year.” 

Akira nods. It’s true. Yusuke is definitely a little weird. 

“He asked me if I thought his empty coffee cup was art,” Sojiro says. He sounds accusatory, like maybe Yusuke’s weirdness is Akira’s fault. It isn’t, but Yusuke being there all the time certainly is. 

“What did you say?” Akira asks, curious. Sojiro is a man of many nuances, but somehow Akira doesn’t think appreciating the artistry inherent in ceramics is one of them. 

Sojiro shrugs. “I told him it wasn’t art, it was just empty. Then I gave him a rag to clean it, because if he’s gonna sit here all day and only order one cup of coffee, he can damn well make himself useful.” 

Later, when Akira is cleaning up, he finds the coffee-soiled towel next to the sink in the back. He picks it up and looks at it, wondering what Yusuke would make of it. Akira even turns it this way and that, but it just looks like a dirty, coffee-stained faded white towel to him. No stars or anything that he can see. But he doesn’t see the world like Yusuke does, so who knows? 

He takes a picture and sends it to Yusuke on a private chat. 

_ Joker: does this look like stars to you _

_ Joker: [attachment .jpg] _

_ Fox: no _

_ Fox: It looks like you spilled coffee on a towel _

_ Fox: but if you turn it sideways it looks exactly like a lobster claw! _

No matter how many ways he tries turning it sideways, Akira doesn’t see it. It all looks like spilled coffee to him. But he keeps it, folded and unwashed, because maybe one day he’ll see what Yusuke does. 

***

They’re in Mementos, fairly close to the entrance since it’s just the two of them and the shadows are weak enough to dispatch without much trouble. Joker watches as Fox prowls around, muttering to himself about how the hearts of humans are vast tunnels and their fears all revolve around being left alone in the dark. 

“If I could capture this,” Fox says, his eyes burning with intensity behind his mask, “This, the - the _ vastness _ of what it means to be _ empty _…! What sort of color do I even use for the shadows? There’s a midnight-blue, almost muted cobalt in the inky black around the edges of their essence, do you see it there, Joker?” 

Joker doesn’t, just like he didn’t see stars in the juice stains or a lobster on a towel. Joker looks at shadows and sees something that needs to be defeated or avoided, killed or taken and mastered. Joker is wondering what he could do with it, in the Velvet Room. What powers it might yield if its essence was joined with another. 

Fox is trying to figure out _ what color it is _.

“Isn’t it just black?” Joker asks, after the shadow slinks off into the tunnel, left unchallenged. 

Fox whirls toward him, a flurry of white boots and fluffy tail and bright outrage. “No! That would mean the human heart lacks all colors and variance, Joker! It would - it would say that we were nothing but the absence of it, just a shading for the -- hmm.” His outrage fizzles as quick as a fire spell and he snaps his fingers, springing forward on nimble feet. “But maybe you’re onto something, after all. _ What if we’re all just the shading, the outline, the absence of color itself? _Like this place, darkness waiting for the pulsing light of humanity!” 

He’s staring so intently at Joker that Joker doesn’t know what to say. “Um.” He can’t actually tell if that’s a question he’s supposed to answer, but Fox is still looking at him expectantly with his arms flung up in the air, dramatic as ever. “Maybe? Yeah. Maybe.” That seems safe. 

“Perhaps if people knew that,” Fox says, earnestly, “if they could see themselves as outlines in black, they would _ want _ to fill in their outline with something bright. Cadmium yellow, or a cerulean. Or crimson. A color that _ burns _.” 

Joker nods in encouragement. It must be the right answer, because Fox beams and then dashes off, nimble as his metaverse namesake.

Joker follows, looking for hidden dangers and thinking about escape plans and locks that need to be opened, and how long they can stay here before his shift at the noodle place starts. He needs the money. Running a group of teenage vigilante supernatural superheroes is not cheap. 

Meanwhile, Fox slinks deeper into the metaphysical heart of humanity, trying to find beauty in the dark and color in the shadows. 

***

They’re in Akira’s room a few days later, and the light hits Yusuke’s hair _ just _right and Akira hears himself say, “I think the color is the same as your hair.” 

“Hmm? What’s that?” Yusuke, who’s been sketching something intently for the past ten minutes, glances up at him. He’s on the floor with his long legs spread out in front of him, and his hair is half in his face when he turns to regard Akira with a serious expression. “What color?” 

Akira’s been trying to read a manga on his futon but he can’t seem to concentrate. He keeps glancing at Yusuke as he draws, the way the pencil moves so light and quick over the paper. He uses his art supplies like he does his swords, his movements elegant, sure and flutter-quick. 

“The -- color of the shadows. On the edges?” Akira feels silly, saying this. “You asked about it in Mementos, remember? It’s the same color blue as your hair.” His face is burning. Akira is a tactician. He does not rush headfirst into things, be they battles or conversations or awkward attempts at flirting.

“Oh!” Yusuke beams. “Really? I’d say my hair was less midnight and more cornflower, but that does open up some possibilities, Akira, thank you! Picturing that color of blue as the edges and the black as the deeper dark beyond…. It makes me think about the sea, the way it looked in Hawaii at night, when the moon was obscured by the clouds! About _depths, _there but unrevealed to our poor human gaze! That’s very profound.” 

The best part about hanging out with Yusuke is that no matter what weird thing Akira says, Yusuke will always say something weirder. 

“Sure,” Akira says. “No problem.” 

***

The problem is that Fox wasn’t paying attention. One minute he’s asking Joker if he thinks broken train tracks with abrupt dead ends are meant to convey individual career goals gone to waste, and the next, a yaksini is flitting about and aiming an ice spell at both of them. It’s an easy battle with the whole team, but for only the two of them, it’s a bit more of a fight. 

“Wait!” it shrieks, when Joker and Fox have it knocked down. “I can tell you things! I can help! Spare me! I have an inconsequential amount of money! Mostly useless items! Let me give you one! C’mon, guys!” 

“I might consider it,” Fox says, staring down at the prone shadow, “If you answer a question for me. I don’t have a lot of opportunities to converse with your kind, Joker handles most of the talking. But since I’ve got you here...would you say that your internal nature is born of greed, strife, or a desire to embrace wickedness as a rejection of acceptable societal mores? I ask not for personal reasons, you understand. It's for my _ art _.” 

The yaksini tilts its head. It looks at Fox, and it looks at Joker, and then it says, “I changed my mind. Just kill me.” 

“But I _ really _would like to know,” Fox says, taking a step closer. His katanas gleam in the muted light as he twirls them, idly, all his attention focused on conversing with the shadow. “I promise your insight will not go unappreciated! My canvas awaits!” 

Joker thinks about Fox, back in the real world, where he’s Yusuke. How he twirls his pencil just like he twirls his swords. It occurs to Joker that Yusuke’s eccentricities are startlingly consistent. Maybe it’s an art thing. Maybe it’s just Yusuke. 

“Just take this and beat it,” the yaksini says, tossing some iron sand and scurrying away. “I hate art. Especially _modern _art." As the shadow dissipates, they hear a faintly-whispered, "Weirdo." 

Fox sighs. “I don’t understand why they always do that.” He sheathes his swords with a little flourish and picks up the iron sand. He tosses it to Joker, who catches it easily. "It said it didn't like modern art, but I'd like to know what kind of art shadows _do _like. Also, why they carry money." 

_I want to kiss him, _ Joker thinks, as they press on. 

_Huh. _

***

The church is quiet, empty save the two of them. Akira stands next to Yusuke, who is staring up at the triptych above the altar. 

“I still don’t understand," Yusuke says, with a deep, mournful sigh. 

Akira has no idea if Yusuke means the art, the idea of suffering, or the idea of love -- they've had this conversation here, before. Or maybe Yusuke means something else entirely, like why they don’t restock the vending machine at his school more than once every two weeks. Akira doesn’t know any of these answers, so he stays quiet. 

Last time they came here, he tried to get Akira to strip then made him pose like Christ crucified on a cross. And Akira still wants to hang out with him -- still wants to _ kiss _him, even. Which probably says something about Akira, though he's not sure what. 

Yusuke turns to him. “I’ve felt suffering, you know. I’ve seen the anguish suffered by those who confront their own shadow in the palaces of their distorted mind, and yet...and yet! I cannot capture it, the essence of it, no matter how hard I try!” 

Yusuke thinks spilled coffee and juice stains and broken train tracks and subway maps are beautiful. He’s staring at the pieta and he sees suffering as just another facet of art. Even anguish is beauty, in Yusuke’s world.

The anguish he feels is because he can’t paint anguish, but if Akira were to point that out, Yusuke would be so delighted, he’d lose the feeling of anguish entirely. _ Beauty _is Yusuke’s true elemental weakness. Akira wants to laugh. 

“I don’t think you’re the suffering type,” Akira says, nodding at the triptych. “Maybe this just isn’t your kind of art.” 

“Not my kind of art,” Yusuke repeats, slowly. “I see, yes. Yes! Perception is everything! I must work with what I have, and what I have is not anguish!” Yusuke’s pretty eyes alight and his smile makes Akira’s heart race like they’re outrunning a shadow. “I could kiss you right now, Kurusu-kun!” 

“Okay,” Akira says, trying to play it cool. “You should.” 

Yusuke blinks, and then he leans in and kisses Akira, right there in front of the triptych. It’s hesitant, slow, but they move in close and figure it out together; there’s a rhythm to it, like battle or art or anything else that takes practice. Akira is definitely looking forward to practicing -- just maybe not here. 

When they move apart, Yusuke looks awed. “Desire! At last I’ve discovered it! Who would have thought it would be found in front of such exquisite renditions of suffer - mmph.” 

Akira pulls him in and kisses him again. Maybe it’s weird to kiss your crush the first time in a church, talking about anguish as an artistic concept, but it’s _ Yusuke, _so...maybe it’s just the right amount of weird. 

Whatever it is, it's definitely _them_, and that's really all that matters. 

**Author's Note:**

> The Persona 5 Royal Edition better give me the option for the protagonist to date Yusuke, is all I'm saying.


End file.
